Chapter 68: Epilogue

The year Wang Jiexiang died, Yin Xian was 29.

He was in a meeting at the company when his phone rang, and it was her number calling.

Yin Xian answered the phone, and then received the news of her death.

He handled the funeral arrangements for her.

Her death was classified as an accidental death, and only immediate family members could handle the paperwork before the body could be cremated. Yin Xian contacted Jiang Bingbing, and she took him to Wang Jiexiang’s hometown.

The road into the mountains was bumpy. He sat on the bus, looking out the window at the endless green mountains.

Jiang Bingbing said the road was newly built, and the bus service was new as well. The transportation used to be much worse. They had to walk three hours on mountain roads to get to school.

Perhaps moved by the scene, she rambled on about how happy she was when she and Jiexiang’er were together: she would always go to her house to play, and Jiexiang’s mother would braid their hair when she was alive; they would explore the creek together, the jujubes in her garden were very sweet, and Jiexiang loved planting flowers and plants. She was a very good student.

Yin Xian didn’t respond.

Jiang Bingbing looked sad, continuously saying “Jiexiang” every now and then. He had no interest in what she said. The unchanged trees and grass along the road caught his attention more.

When they reached their destination, Yin Xian met Wang Jiexiang’s family for the first time.

When they learned she was gone, her father stepped outside for a cigarette; her grandmother showed no sorrow, as if hearing that a rat had died in the house.

After her father left, her grandmother’s small eyes darted around. She approached Yin Xian with her hands in her pockets and asked him:

“Someone who died saving others, should we get some money as compensation?”

He asked, “How much do you want?”

The old woman squeezed out a smile on her wrinkled face, her murky eyes shining with shrewdness.

“At least a few hundred, right? She’s dead.”

Yin Xian had no intention of staying at her house longer.

Her father returned from smoking and asked him how Jiexiang had been these years.

Yin Xian didn’t answer. He left them some money and his contact details, asking her father to finish the paperwork and send him the Death Certificate.

On the way back, they passed some fields where a group of children were playing.

Jiang Bingbing recognized one of the children as Wang Jiexiang’s younger brother, Wang Jiehao, whom she had seen before when she returned to her hometown.

A primary school boy with a cute face. He had eyes similar to Wang Jiexiang’s, but narrower, and his hair was cut very short. From a distance, his round head looked like a little potato.

He and his friends were playing hide and seek.

The children were jumping and laughing freely.

Jiang Bingbing walked over to talk to him.

When Wang Jiexiang left home, Wang Jiehao was four years old. Now he didn’t remember his sister very well.

“Stupid.”

He didn’t remember his sister’s name, only that his grandmother always called her that, so he followed suit.

Jiang Bingbing quickly said, “Children speak without thinking,” and turned to Yin Xian to explain.

“They treated Jiexiang like this because she left for the city without saying a word, and there’s been no news of her in all these years. That’s why they’re not on good terms.”

How bad could it have been? He thought: she’s dead.

Jiang Bingbing then took Yin Xian to the village entrance.

She hadn’t been back to her hometown for a long time and would stay a few more days before leaving.

Yin Xian bid her farewell and sat alone at the village entrance, waiting for the bus back to the city.

As the sun set, people who had finished their dinner were resting under the old tree at the village entrance. Children rode their bicycles, the sound of bells ringing as they passed by.

The villagers spoke with the same accent as Wang Jiexiang. They fanned themselves with hand fans, chatting about family matters, exchanging words here and there. Yin Xian listened absently, as if waiting for someone to join the conversation.

He had calmly accepted her departure.

From receiving the notification to handling all the paperwork, finding the Funeral Home, and cremating her… he managed everything smoothly without shedding a single tear.

Yin Xian personally watched Wang Jiexiang’s body being pushed into the incinerator.

She burned inside while he waited outside.

When it was done, the staff notified him to collect the ashes.

Yin Xian received a white urn.

It was cold and hard. Holding it in his arms, he couldn’t feel a single ounce of warmth. She had been such a big person, but after being cremated, there was only such a small jar of ashes left.

Later, Wang Jiexiang’s father came to find him.

Yin Xian refused to hand her over to her family, refusing to let her be taken back to her hometown.

He didn’t keep her at home either. In Lingyuan’s columbarium, Yin Xian bought a small compartment.

Wang Jiexiang’s urn was placed there, and in the compartment, he put a photo of them taken in front of Yinyuan Bridge.

Yin Xian’s face in the photo was just as grim.

She looked at the camera, her eyes curving into crescent moons, smiling like a flower.

“Why are you smiling?”

He knocked on the glass in front of the compartment and asked her.

Yin Xian was angry with Wang Jiexiang.

He thought she was so stupid. He was angry at her for being so foolish.

She had suffered for her brother since she was young and died for someone like him. It wasn’t worth it.

“Who cares about you in this world? No one cares about you, idiot…”

He knocked on the glass again.

She ignored him, but still smiled.

Wearing the cartoon hairpin he gave her, Wang Jiexiang had a face full of happiness, completely unaware of his cold expression. She intimately linked arms with him, naturally leaning toward him.

On the small bridge, the stone monument stood out, with the glaring word “Fate” behind them, how forced it seemed.

Yin Xian strode away from Lingyuan.

For the next twenty years, he never visited her.